


The Demon's Contract

by BlancheSparkCandela, CameoAmalthea



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, FFVII
Genre: AU, Contracts, Demon Deals, Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlancheSparkCandela/pseuds/BlancheSparkCandela, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CameoAmalthea/pseuds/CameoAmalthea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years ago President Shinra made a deal with a devil, wealth and power beyond his wildest dreams would be his but for a price. Upon his death, the contract is up, and the demon Reno has come to collect his payment: Rufus Shinra's soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Demon's Contract

Chapter 1

The last decade of the eighteen hundreds was drawing to a close. Soon a new century would dawn, and he would rise as a king in this new age. Rufus Shinra, heir to one of America’s wealthiest and most powerful families. His father’s company all but controlled the nation’s coal, the shipping, and the railroads, the politicians and the gangsters were all in the Old man’s pocket, and any who had sought to oppose him had met unfortunate ends. Now the old man himself had met an untimely death, but Rufus didn’t see it as all that unfortunate. Everything his father built would fall to him.

It had begun to rain when Rufus left the funeral, but he was warm and dry inside the lavishly upholstered carriage. Pulling back the velvet curtain on the window he saw his sprawling Rhode Island mansion, or the summer home as father used to call it, come into view, lit from within by lamplight and above by the streaks of lightening which seemed to nearly split the sky.

Upon returning home Rufus retired immediately to his bed chambers and none of the servants questioned him. After all, the boy had just lost his father, his only surviving family. He needed time and space. In case anyone thought to question that logic and offer him food or condolences, Rufus informed the head butler that he did not wish to be disturbed. The room was pitch black when he entered, aside from the dim light of the fading fire. He felt for the switch to turn up the gas lamps and wondered where his Irish Wolf Hound, Dark Nation, had gone. Perhaps one of the servants had but her out in the barn for barking at the whistling wind.

Suddenly the room was flooded with light, the candles and gas lamps all suddenly alight and flickering and the fire roared. In the now brightly lit room Rufus saw a man he knew well.

His father employed a private security team made up of bodyguards and investigators who’d been given the nickname the Turks. The Turks had given his father reputation of being a gangster of a capitalist, people called them thugs and sneered at them as their number included immigrants, blacks, and young men surely raised in the roughest slums, but they garnered the sort of respect only fear can by and always dressed and behaved like professionals. All except Reno, he wore his suit unbuttoned, untucked and often in tatters and spoke like he’d come straight from the gutters.

Rufus liked Reno. Reno didn’t seem to care what anyone thought of him and waltzed through the world like it was all just a game. He had a vicious smile, and sharp green blue eyes framed by red-inked tattoos like swathes of freshly splattered blood, almost as red as his unkempt hair. It was Reno who stood before him now, and before Rufus could question what exactly he was doing there, he began to change.

The tattooed lines on his face seemed to spread, forming an elaborate swirling patterns on his cheekbones and down his neck where they spread over his body to his wrists, or so Rufus surmised based on what he could see could see beneath the unkempt suit. Reno’s hands shifted, fingers elongating into claws, and from his head grew a pair of small black horns like a rams. When he smiled, his mouth showed fangs, and his blue green eyes shown with a predatory gleam.

Rufus pressed himself against the door, and inhaled sharply.

Rufus stumbled backwards against his bedroom door. He had no weapon on him, though it would be easy enough to call for help, and yet he could not find his voice to speak, but instead stood transfixed.

"Hello there little one, are you ready to go?” asked the demon, in a sing song voice, “It's time for me to collect what's mine yo."

"What the hell?" he breathed, eyeing the creature that looked so much like Reno.

Reno's blue eyes glistened as he brushed his hair back fingers, tracing over his scalp and black horns. "Yes, Hell." Reno purred, "I’ll show you hell, a little taste, before I taste your soul. Now then Rufus, it's time for you to pay your father's debt." He stepped forward toward the blonde man in even strides.

Rufus swallowed trying to stay calm. "Debts?" he asked. He was trying to wrap his head around this nightmare than was all too real to be a dream.

"Such a shame your father didn't tell you, little one." Reno scoffed, "Long before you were born, your father, penniless, desperate and ambitious, summoned a demon and begged for a deal. A contract for one wish granted. Power, money, a prosperous life were all he asked, in exchange for the soul of his firstborn son.”

“My soul?” asked Rufus.

“Yes, sold to me,” said Reno, grinning again. “I’ve been keeping an eye on things in my human form. I promised I would never harm him, and that I’d personally insure he’d live at least thirty years. Time enough to enjoy what he’d bought, and he wouldn’t to see the price. Now that he’s dead, I can collect.”

“You can’t take my soul!” Rufus protested, “I never agreed to this, you can’t make a contract to sell something you don’t own, my soul is mine!”

“You didn’t exist when the deal was made and you don’t make the rules of the contract,” said Reno, “I’ve waited a long time for this, and I’ve grown very hungry.”

“Hungry?” Rufus all but whispered.

“Demons consume souls,” said Reno, “ What a treat it will be to devour you. You'll taste exquisite, I can tell. Best meal I've had in centuries, yo." The last sentence was teasing, slipping back into his normal slum accent, which Rufus realized must have been part of an act. This creature was ancient and could speak in any manner he chose. The formal speech he made now was no doubt to be clear, so Rufus could understand exactly what had been done and the horrible things to come.

“You mean to tell me that father sold my soul in exchange for success and by killing him, I ended the contract and now you're going to…" Rufus broke off and broke into laughter. "Please, just give me a moment." Rufus held up his hand as he continued to laugh.

“Murder? Really? Not an innocent soul then, Rufus, but that’s all the better to eat,” Reno smirked at the blonde human. "However, I've waited this long. A moment more is hardly going to sour your taste. Go ahead, laugh.”

"All those years of bragging, of telling me I'd never be as great as him and he...he didn't earn any of it,” spat Rufus as he began to pace, “and all time I've spent, all the work trying to be worthy, to take his company. Now I have it and you're going to eat me." He laughed like it was the best joke he'd ever heard in his life.

“I’m surprised you can see the humor in it,” said Reno, chuckling, “But I’m glad you do. To me your laughter is like the scent of a gourmet meal, the perfect thing to whet my appetite.”

"That fucking bastard!" said Rufus, his laughing taking on a darker edge, near screaming, near breaking, but not quite. Rufus Shinra did not cry. He turned back to Reno, tiling his head to the side like a confused puppy. "You don't sound like you, so refined Reno. Or what is your true name anyway, demon?”

"Just continue to call me Reno. It's simpler that way.”

"Right, so the slum accent?” asked Rufus as he removed the black coat he'd worn to the funeral and tossed it aside, before tearing off his shirt. It was too hot in here. “Are the cigarettes you carried real at least, because if so I'd like one about now.”

Reno reached into the coat and pulled out the pack of cigarettes. "Here." He walked over as he slid one out of the box before stopping mere inches away from Rufus. The smoke was held up to the blonde's lips with little fuss. When Rufus took it in his mouth, Reno summoned a flame that danced on his finger like a fresh struck match. He brought the flame to the cigarette and lit it.

“Thanks,” said Rufus.

“You’ll be dead soon,” said Reno, “no harm in granting last requests. Do you have any others, aside from sparing your life, ‘cause that ain’t happenin’. Do you like the slang better, yo?”

“It’s more like you,” said Rufus.

“Humans are shallow, I spoke in whatever way they respected least, it’s fun to see how judgmental and cruel they can be. Judging books by covers, the rich scoundrels are treated like kings and the street kids are kicked. But you never acted like you were too good for anyone. I have to wonder where you got that.”

Rufus simply shrugged. “Perhaps I’m not as stupid as the rest, and I’m certainly not stupid enough to waste my breath begging you for anything.”

“So there’s nothing else you want?” asked Reno.

“Perhaps a drink, but I can get it myself,” said Rufus, moving to the liquor cabinet. Busying himself to keep from panicking or breaking down completely.


End file.
